


War Paint

by clexastories



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Competition, F/F, Flirting, Fraternities & Sororities, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4394765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clexastories/pseuds/clexastories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bring the big guns out, shoot now<br/>I’ll make the drums beat harder for you<br/>Red on the ground, bleed out<br/>I’ll rub the colors on my face to prove<br/>I’ll sing it like<br/>Watch me put my war paint on, my war paint on</p><p>- “War Paint” by Fletcher</p>
            </blockquote>





	War Paint

**Author's Note:**

> I heard this song. Five minutes later I was writing. GO LISTEN IMMEDIATELY because it just IS modern-day Clexa. SIGHS <3

Gun strapped over her back, Clarke crept along the tree line, ducking and hiding behind barriers as she advanced forward. She didn’t think anyone had noticed her cross the boundary into enemy territory, but if she was caught, it wouldn’t end well. Glancing behind her, she saw no one, and the only gunshots she heard were muffled, far off in the distance. She grinned fiercely, pleased with her success so far. She just had to make it to Lexa and take her out, then this would all be over and her side would be the victors.

As she crept closer to the heart of the enemy’s territory, her heart raced in anticipation, blood rushing in her ears. When the murmuring of several voices reached her, she tensed, recognizing Lexa’s low tones. Carefully, she took off her gun and wedged it against her shoulder, muzzle raised and ready to fire. Inching closer, she kept herself concealed behind the last barrier separating her from Lexa and her allies. She peeked out quickly, noting that there were two others in addition to her target. She would have to take them out first.

Sucking in a deep breath, she leapt out and fired right away, taking the guards by surprise. They let out shocked exclamations, clutching at the wetness now soaking through their clothing at the points of impact. Lexa, however, remained unscathed, the large Greek letters on her T-shirt clean of any paint splatter. The same couldn’t be said for her teammates, the white “Tau Rho Iota” lettering of their shirts now covered in blue, thanks to Clarke and her excellent aim.

“Ah, ah!” She cried out as Lexa reached out for her paint gun, which was slung over her shoulder. “Bad idea. Drop it.”

Lexa just raised her tawny eyebrows, then put forth her hands slowly in surrender as she reached to disarm herself. “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement, Clarke.”

With a fierce grin, she shook her head. “I don’t think so. Alpha Rho Kappa is taking home the Greek Week crown this year, whether you like it or not.”

Keeping her gun trained on her enemy sorority’s president, Clarke nodded towards a tall hay bale barrier a few feet away. Lexa shot her an unimpressed look— _really?_  her green eyes seemed to say, though there was a glimmer of humor in them as well. Clarke shrugged, still smiling, and with careful steps, backed a weaponless Lexa around the corner.

“Any last words?” She inquired gleefully. By taking out the TRI president, she would gain enough points for ARK to win the paintball tournament, and by extension the whole Games, and it felt gloriously good to have gotten the one-up on Lexa.

“So dramatic,” Lexa murmured. “Just do it.”

Brimming with satisfaction, Clarke raised the gun and pulled the trigger, but the gurgling sound was not what she expected to hear.

“What the—” she muttered, taking a quick look at her gun’s chamber. A mess of blue paint and plastic oozed out.

 _Damn it._  Her gun was clogged.

The rich, ringing laugh that Lexa let out had Clarke’s cheeks flushing, in equal parts irritation and attraction.

 _Damn it._  She couldn’t be distracted now.

“Shut up,” she muttered sullenly, jamming her finger in the chamber to try and get it working again. “And don’t move.”

Lexa just continued to giggle, the wind swirling her hair playfully as she leaned back against the hay bale. After a few seconds, Clarke decided the gun was a lost cause, but thinking quickly, she gathered the remaining intact paint bullets from the chamber. Dropping her gun, she stalked towards Lexa, grinning widely.

Her opponent stopped laughing, her eyes widening as she fixated on the bullets that Clarke was turning over and over in her hand.

“Don’t you da—” Lexa growled, but was interrupted but Clarke smacking the bullets against her stomach, mashing the released paint into her t-shirt.

“Gotcha,” she declared happily.

Lexa just inhaled deeply, her middle moving underneath Clarke’s hand that was still pressed there. A few tense beats passed as she stroked her fingers against the wet material, Lexa’s lips parting at the touches. Clarke let mischief sneak into her smile as she raised her paint-coated fingers to her hostage’s face. With careful strokes, she drew lines of blue around Lexa’s eyes extending all the way to her hairline, supplementing with some streaks down her cheeks in descending length.

“Every commander needs some war paint,” she murmured. Her fingers lingered against Lexa’s skin, and she was reluctant to pull them away. It was only when Lexa leaned forward suddenly that she jerked them back, startled.

Her opponent just laughed under her breath, still moving forward until their lips were pressed together. Clarke smiled into the kiss, welcoming the very familiar feel of Lexa’s mouth moving against hers. Four months of secret kisses and stolen moments, of sneaking into each other’s houses so their warring sisters wouldn’t find out, and her stomach still fluttered with nerves like it had the first time they had kissed (a sloppy, drunken tease of a thing that had shocked them both until they realized something that potent couldn’t be a mistake, that it wasn’t a one-night stand of a kiss).

Clarke lost herself in the kiss, enjoying the slide of her tongue against her girlfriend’s lips and the exploring pressure of Lexa’s hands against her lower back and her ass. She was so absorbed that it took a much too close shout from around the corner to bring her back to the present.

“Shit,” she mumbled as she disentangled herself from Lexa’s embrace. “I got to go.”

“At least you got your war spoils,” Lexa teased from her relaxed position against the bales, a few strands of hay tangled in her long curls.  

Clarke rolled her eyes, not able to help the giggle that escaped her lips. She slung her useless gun over her back again, leaning in for one more lingering kiss before she pulled away for good.

“I’ll see you later. I have a war to win,” Clarke gloated, then took off in the opposite direction of the approaching voices, determined to make it back to her side unscathed.

* * *

Alpha Rho Kappa did indeed win the Greek Week Games, as Clarke’s takedown of the Tau Rho Iota president put them in the clear lead. No one disputed that fact until the girls went up to claim the trophy, when Clarke raised it above her head and then spun around with a victorious smile to celebrate with her sisters, her shirt rising up to reveal her jean-clad butt to the audience. Her jean-clad butt, which sported two very distinct red-paint handprints, one on each cheek.

Though the TRI sisters protested, saying it should have been a tie since both presidents had apparently been taken out, Lexa didn’t dispute ARK’s victory, her lips curving into an amused, satisfied smile as she said  _they can have this one._

Lexa didn’t need a trophy, because the embarrassed pink blush on Clarke’s cheeks and the tinkling sound of her sheepish laugh that echoed down from the stage was enough of a prize for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://clexastories.tumblr.com)!


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